As we are about to embark on a new year, there is much to reflect on. As the title suggests, it only seems right to split this blog into 2 sections. The Ironman Blues and a Happy New Year.
Part 1: The post- Ironman blues.
Since that glorious finish line on Nov 17, I've gotten the proverbial question, 'So, what's next'? approximately 1,235 times. I'm sure others that have done an Ironman can relate, as if 140.6 miles isn't enough, there always has to be something more..right?
After the Ironman I thought I was invincible. In the days after I thought I would do a marathon in the coming months and it would be the easiest thing ever. I did, afterall, do a marathon after a 2.4 mile swim and a 112 mile bike..doing one on it's own would be nothing. I thought about how I couldn't wait for my next 1/2 IM and how it would be a breeze. I was an Ironman and I could do anything!
I promised my coach I would take 2 weeks off which was no doubt, the smart thing to do. I did just that, other than two 5K 'musts'. The Turkey Trot and the Santa Hustle with the Blade Runners. Both turned into 'fun' runs and I posted my slowest 5K times in years. I chalked it up to a tough day, some cold temps and my muscles still needing to recover. I was an Ironman, how could a 5K be that hard?
I got sick, and 2 recovery weeks turned into 3 weeks. And being the holidays, I was continuing to eat everything in sight. Plus some. In the meantime, needing a 'next', I had signed up for the Disney 1/2 marathon on Jan 12...more on that later.
Week 3 came and I was ready. I had my 2014 schedule planned out, I needed to learn to sprint again. There was nationals and worlds and a possible Paralympic Games in a few years. This is what I was supposed to be doing. So, I got on the bike, I put my running leg on and I started again. Only something was different. My legs said no. Spinning my legs on a bike seemed like the hardest thing ever, trying to run a 12m mile for 3 straight miles was a daunting task. Everything from my hip flexor down flat out said no, when I tried to make it do anything. People told me it was that time of year, or my muscles still hadn't recovered or give it time. So I kept at it and gave it time. 6 weeks it's been, and without many changes it's been frustrating to say the least. The most damaging part about it is, I have stopped enjoying the workouts. I pride myself on racing and competing becasue I enjoy it. If that ever stopped, I was going to need to re-evaluate my goals in life. Maybe it's not the nationals and the worlds, but it's traveling, or spending more time with old friends, coaching, or doing something different to re-invigorate the joy and the challenge in all of this. I've dabbled in the thought of a year off and then force myself back on the bike, or back on the road on another workout becasue I think that's what I'm 'supposed' to do. And that time really will make it all better.
So, what's next? Your guess is as good as mine. I'm sure I'll continue on in hopes that it does get better. There are some big goals at stake but goals can and do change. The questions of why it's taking this long to recover, when will I enjoy it again and if my running days are over will remain. If anyone has any suggestions on how to get rid of these post- Ironman blues, feel free to pipe in. In the meantime, maybe I'll just go climb a mountain. Or swim the English Channel. Or something cool like that.
In 2 weeks, Brian and I are once again registered for the Disney 1/2 marathon with Achilles. As you can imagine, my training has been sub-par and for the first time ever, I am thinking of backing out. To save both the physical and the mental pain of what 13.1 miles might do. What I thought would be a breeze 6 weeks ago, is turning into a daunting event. As a woman always after the next PR, I need to conclude that this will not be my fastest race and maybe I should stop and take some pictures with Cinderella and Goofy along the way. If only I had more time, because time fixes everything right?
Part 2: A Happy New Year
Ok, I'm done being a debbie downer. 2014 is a day away and I can look back on 2013 and say it's been one heck of a year. From winning races and loosing races, from the Pledge of Allegiance at 'W''s library opening, to seeing a best friend get married, to PR's, to the ever thriving Dare2tri, new babies,
to the sights of Paris, and London, becoming an Ironman, celebrating
birthdays and anniversaries, new friendships, enjoying my healthy,
lovely family and boyfriend, throwing endless tennis balls to Jake, and
most importantly, living. It's been a good year and it will be tough to
top. Below are some of my favorite pictures of the year to reflect back
on.
Tomorrow night I will raise my glass with you to
another year. So here's to another good one, to doing whatever it is
that makes us happy and to living and enjoying this great country we all
live in. HAPPY NEW YEAR to you all. Life is good.
PEACE OUT.
Monday, December 30, 2013
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
I AM AN IRONMAN.
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today, as I sit here, letting the sore muscles recover and looking at pictures over and over. A day I will never forget, a day with so many ups and downs and the culmination of those epic words, 'Melissa Stockwell, You are an Ironman!'
You can end here if you like, that is after all, the end result of the day. If you want to hear how it all went down, read on, keeping in mind that is was 140.6 miles, so it's a long one...
The day started early. 420am wake up call with Brian. Down to the lobby to
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We were able to start with the pro men, the first swim wave. If you've seen an IM or done one, you know what a huge advantage this is. Instead of starting with 2500 of your best friends in what is called the washing machine, as everyone goes at once, we only had about 50 others and plenty of space to get those arms going.
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But, nothing to do than to keep going, so that I did. Step by step right?
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Miles 6-12 didn't get much better. With this throat issue, I could only manage a few grapes at each water stop. So 4-5 grapes, a cup of water and I was off to the next one. I saw Dan and Basia around mile 8 and was once again Ms downer. A little wave and that was it. When Brian tried to cheer me up with a funny face I turned it down and was visibly pretty miserable. What had I gotten myself into. I was only at mile 10!
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so that's what it was going to be.
I saw Dan and Basia and Keri about mile 20. Still feeling OK,
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Dan yelled out 'From Walter Reed to Ironman, you've got this Stockwell' Inspiring? yes. I passed mile 20 and things started to go downhill. On to mile 21 and the miles got slower and the exhaustion set in. By mile 23, I was getting to an all time low. Struggling to run at all, I saw Mark again and he begged me to please have some coke. I tried a small sip, and that's all I could get down. 2.5 more miles and I was spent. By mile 24 I was there, the lowest of lows. My body wouldn't work right, it was all I could do to walk. I would try the game of running from light pole to light pole and that failed. Everything hurt. I saw the 15 hour time come and go. I saw Jean run by, looking so strong as she encouraged me to just keep going, I could do this. There were silent tears, the wonderment on what on earth I was doing out there. A marathon on 50 grapes, is that possible? But one foot in front of the other, and the minutes dragged on. And finally. Finally, I got to mile 26, I saw Dan. He had my American flag there
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And now, the finish chute. You always imagine yourself here. I had thought so many times what would I do. I wanted to take in the crowd, to give high fives and walk my way down. As I rounded the corner I saw Katz, Alyssa and MaryKate screaming their hearts out. I turned and saw that finish. And it all became a blur. The deafaning noise, the lights, the crowds and that finish line. It was heaven. And suddenly, I could run. A slow run, with that flag over head, and as I got closer, those words I had so longed to hear, Melissa Stockwell, YOU ARE AN IRONMAN. I stood at that finish a wave of emotion. In 15:12, I had completed 140.6 miles. I was in the club. I was an Ironman.
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What a crazy, incredible journey. A journey that started almost a year ago. The training, the hard work, it all paid off, another dream come true. Here I was, Nov 17, 2013, and I was an Ironman. Surrounded by my best friends, my family and the cheers of so many of you. Over the next few hours, with the help if Brian, I made myself back to the hotel, got to lay down, take a bath and sleep away my first night as an Ironman.
I woke up, somehow still able to move and even walk. I was and am overwhelmed by how special and loved so many of you made me feel. I truly am the luckiest girl in the world.
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A question I've gotten, will I do it again?
On sunday night, it was a flat, No. Then it was a not yet, and now it's a maybe. That's the way these things go. And if there is or isn't another IM the big questions is, what's next? If anyone has any ideas send them me way. I'm up for it all. Any challenge is a good challenge. For now the challenge is learning to rest, take some time off, and then learn to sprint again. I think I've forgotten how. And take on nationals and worlds again, and so the journey of a different kind will continue.
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So there you go. My journey of 140.6 miles and a dream come true.
I am an Ironman.
Saturday, November 16, 2013
#thisisIMAZ
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This whole dream started on a New Years Eve almost 2 years go when I decided that in 2013, I wanted to be an Ironman. And tomorrow, that dream will be reality. I am #127. If you'd like, you can go to ironmanlive.com and you'll be able to track my progress.
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The goal is the finish line. To be honest, I don't feel like I'm at my fittest, but hopefully it'll be enough to get me through.
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So, tomorrow is the day. Transition opens at 5am so no doubt I'll be up at 4 and knocking at the gate. I know that it's going to be tough, I know it will be a physical and a mental battle, but I know it will be one of the best days of my life. Tomorrow I will make my own history. It's no longer the road to IMAZ, this IS IMAZ, and ready or not, here we go.
Until next time, when I am part of the prestigious IM club,
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Peace Out.
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Sunday, November 3, 2013
#roadtoIMAZ
T-14 days. Wow. What that means is in two weeks from today,
I will be shuffling my way through Tempe, AZ, mile by mile, towards that finish
line, and this dream of being an Ironman will soon be reality.
The last few weeks have been my longest and hardest training
weeks and as I move into ‘taper time’ I’m ready to let me legs rest. I’ve
gotten to know the farming roads of Batavia where I’ve done many longer rides,
always looking forward to the stops at the Purple Store or the cookies from
Casey’s. I’ve gotten to know the Fox
Valley River trail and seen how pretty it can look in the fall as I run under a
canopy of yellow. I’ve waved at people on the Lake path always wondering what
they are training for this late in the season. With the Chicago marathon over,
there are fewer and fewer of us out there, and I’ve come to enjoy the brisk
weather runs along the lake. There have been century rides, and race simulations,
where it’s a full 8-9 hour training day as I swim, bike and run and dial- in
what my nutrition will be on race day. I’ve learned that the tailgate of my
Honda element is a great place to stretch after a long workout. I’ve eaten more
gels and bonk breaker bars and honey stingers that I care to admit, but know
those are what will get me through all those miles. I’ve learned that biking
when it’s 30 degrees out really is not fun and you can just wave as the drivers
give you crazy looks from their heated cars. I’ve learned that on a long ride
or run, the reminder that I signed up for this and imagining that finish line
can go a long way. I’ve swam miles and miles, and learned that with a 2.4 mile
swim, it’s not how fast you can do it, but it’s staying steady and preparing
for the day ahead. I’ve learned that chicken nuggets taste even better after a
long workout. I’ve talked strategy, I’ve listened to my coach, to my friends
and other Ironmen who have come before me. I’ve been told that the porta
potties will be my friend on the run, and that on
that run, it’s just about
putting one foot in front of the other. I’ve been told that IMAZ is one of the
best spectator courses and to let that fuel me along. And the best thing I’ve
learned, is that when I get to that finish chute, I will feel like I am
floating. Whether it’s been a good race, or a bad one, if I’ve crawled my way
to mile 26, somehow I will find my feet again and that it will be one of the
greatest moments of my life. How’s that for inspiration.
I am currently in what we call ‘taper time’. Less volume in
order to let my muscles rest before the big day. Some people love it, but it
can be a challenge as well. When you go from 2 hour runs, to a 45 min run, its
easy to think that you will loose all that you’ve gained these past few months.
Not to mention, the hunger is still there, and it’s hard to cut back on the
eating because you’ve been doing so much of it the past few months. And let’s
be honest, I love food. But. It’s all part of the plan. The training and the
taper, and I will trust in it. It’s my only choice. No more Mcnuggets for me.
Sigh.
I have always thrived on spectators and seeing friends along
the course and am lucky to have a big ‘Team Melissa’ crew, with shirts to
match, that will be there with me. Brian, of course, who has been woken up at
5am way too many times this year as I try my hardest to sneak out the door for
my workouts. He has listened to me talk for hours about this race,
always with
a smile and the gentle encouragement that I can do it. Keri will be
there, a
best friend, an Ironman herself and a training partner who has joined me
on
many a runs and often by my side through any big event. Katz, another
best
friend and Ironman that knows inside and out what it takes to be part of
this
Ironman club. MaryKate, my Dare2tri teammate who lives in AZ, Elaine, an
IMAZ
finisher, CAF volunteer and great friend, Dan Riley, a fellow veteran, a
travel
buddy and triathlete. Coach Stacee won't be there in person but she'll
be with us in spirit. She surprised me with these custom red, white and
blue sunglasses with IMAZ on them. And yes, I'm obsessed. There will be
many CAF
staff and other Challenged athletes, Jean, Nick and Karen, and their
teams who
will all be out there on race day fueling us to keep moving forward.
I have been fortunate to have the support of many
organizations that have helped me either financially or with my training. I
will proudly wear the Cigna logo on my uniform as they not only donated to
Dare2tri but funded much of my training season and journey towards this
Ironman. I was lucky to meet David Cordani, CEO of Cigna at a race early this
year and he has been as generous with his charitable contributions as he is
with his support for me to conquer this race. I am also part of Team Refuel and
their chocolate milk campaign as they work with CAF to help challenged athletes
like myself, Jean, Nick and Karen get to the starting line. And of course
Dare2tri, as I proudly wear our logo in hopes that I will be one person out on
that course inspiring many to keep moving forward. And always a thank you to my
company, Scheck and Siress Prosthetics for their support with my flexible
schedule so I can get in these long training days and still have a life outside
of all the training. And to my friends, who I have talked incessantly about this
race with. Thank you for listening to my successes, my complaints and always
having an open ear. I am so very lucky.
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So, the big question... Am I ready? I can confidently say
that, yes, I am ready. Instead of wondering if my training was enough I’m
choosing to believe in the training, and the long hours and believe that I can
do this. I know it will be a tough day. I’m nervous, I’m a little scared but I
am so very excited. Excited for the race. And excited to have a great end to
this very long race season and not see that 5am wake up call.
Nov 17th will be here soon. I will try to write
again but if not, a thank you to all of you who believe in me day after day and
support these crazy dreams of mine. And if all goes as planned, in 2 weeks I
will be an Ironman. And nothing will make me happier.
Peace Out.
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
Road to IMAZ.
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The following weekend was century ride #2. Nothing like back to back century rides right? This one was the Apple Cider Century ride up in Three Oaks, MI. This time with my coach and training buddies Stacee, Heather and Beth. A much, much hillier ride and by mile 40 I wasn't that thrilled. 100 miles of rollers is not my idea of fun. But we kept on, enjoyed the plentiful rest stops, the great weather, the scenery and finished up at 103 miles. Like the previous week, I got off the bike and ran. This time, it was so much better. I ended up with about 7.5 miles, a decent average with the thoughts that I was going to be an Ironman keeping me going. And thinking that maybe all this training actually does something.
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This weekend is both the KONA Ironman and the Chicago marathon so race fever is in the air and it's getting me pumped. I can't wait to cheer on my friend Susan Katz while she races on Kona on Sat. And then on Sunday I get to cheer on Brian (yes, Brian is running a whole marathon!) and many other people as they work their way through Chicago to that finish line. I am incredibly proud of Brian, his first marathon. It's gonna be a good day.
In 5 weeks it'll be my turn. I. Can't. Wait. For the continued training, for the challenge, and for that elated feeling when, after 140.6 miles, I'll get to that finish line and hear that famous line, 'Melissa Stockwell, you are an Ironman.'
That's what keeps me going. I can do this.
Friday, September 27, 2013
A world championship (and a European vacation).
Well, here goes. This was going to be a compilation blog of all sorts of events but it's turned into a race recap. Or else you'd be reading all day.
For those a little late in the game, on Sep 13th, I competed in my 4th World Championships in London, England. As a 3x World Champion, my goal was to defend that title and add a 4 to that. However, as I've found with life, what I want is not always in the cards.
The race started on a rainy, wet Friday Sep 13th in Hyde Park. We had
been in London for a few days, I was feeling good, happy to be back
with Team USA, happy to be with my second family of Dare2tri and the 5
other elite team members and ready for a solid race. I had 3 other
competitors in my classification. Sarah Reinertsen, who I've competed
against many
times, Hailey, my Dare2tri teammate, and a great friend and this new girl from Denmark. Let me say now that this girl from Denmark was a little off from the start. She had all of her limbs and 'used' a cane when she walked. Before the race even started many commented that she was classified wrong and shouldn't have been a Tri2 competing with us. But there she was, her starting alongside the 3 of us missing our legs. So be it.
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The swim was great. I got out of the water first feeling solid, crutched into my transition and was on the bike. The bike was a whopping 6 loops, so a little over 2 miles each and each loop would bring us by transition where we could see the crowd. And my handler. Keri of course. It was wet roads, a little rough and lots of turns. The bike is usually my weakest of the 3 but I had been training and was ready to push hard. The first loop went well. I came through transition knowing I was still ahead and feeling great. A mile into the 2nd loop something started to feel a little strange. I kept thinking something was loose on the bike. And then I felt it, the thump, thump. I looked down and yep, flat tire. Having never had a flat tire in a race, my first thought was seriously, here? and then crap, what do I do...
Well, here's what I did... I made it to the crowd and frantically yelled out, I have a flat, I have a flat. And then I kept going.. loop #3. I had everything I needed to change the tire but I was too caught off guard to do it or know what to do. So I did a 3rd loop. A slow 3rd loop. I couldn't get above 13mph without feeling unsteady. At one point, with all the turns, I looked down to see I was going 9mph and thought how ridiculous this was. It was world championships and this wasn't my plan. I kept telling myself to just get to the crowd, hoping that someone would tell me what to do. I did just that and Brian called out, Keri is in the wheel pit. Who knew there was a wheel pit? So I creeped my way into the wheel pit, thinking Keri and I were going to change my flat. Instead they had an entire wheel there for me to switch out with my flat one. Great news. As we put it on, we realized that this wheel is more narrow than my other one and my front brakes
don't work. No
worries, what did I need to brake for? So 40 seconds later, I was off. I
had 3 loops left, I had no idea where I was in the pack and I tried to
make up for lost time. I pedaled harder than I ever have, this was after
all World Championships, and I had lost too much precious time.
I came to the end of the bike and saw the dismount line. I went to pull the brakes and nothing happened. Turns out when your front brakes don't work, stopping isn't that easy. It was a shocking revelation. I pulled a little harder, slid past the dismount line, saw a red flag go up as I
screeched to a stop many feet later. Turns out
they take that dismount line seriously. Penalty it is.
I
run into T2 shocked to see that only the only bike there is the girl
from Denmark. I assumed after all the tire drama, I had been passed by
everyone. I gave my bike to Keri (aka, the best handler ever) tried
unsuccessfully to get my running leg on fast. Turns out a silicone liner
that's wet and wet hands don't work well together. So as I struggle to
get my liner on and lament to Keri that I just got a penalty I see
Hailey next to me getting off the bike. I finally get my running leg on
and head out with Hailey not far behind and Denmark girl up ahead, who
knows how far. At this point I'm thinking a mess of things. First, can I
still pull this off? Second, why a flat tire, here, now, at Worlds
championships. Third, I have a looming penalty and fourth, man my legs
hurt. At the 1/2 mile point there was a turn and I can see that Hailey
is about 20-30 sec behind. I try to pick it up, I try to keep the
negative thoughts out, and it was enough until about 1.5 miles in. And
then I hear it. The unmistakable sound of a runner with a prosthetic leg
I know she is there. She comes up to my right, I try to stay with her
for a second, but this girl is on fire. I keep her in sight and as we
round mile 2 and I try again to pick it up. But it's not gonna happen,
it's not in the cards. Plus, I had a penalty to serve before I finished,
so why should I even try. Mentally, I was weak. Whether the tire, the
legs, the looming penalty, the day, who knows, but I gave up and saw
Hailey get further and further away.
A few hundred feet before the finish I see the penalty box and my number in it. I walk into the penalty box, I see Brian close by holding the signature American flag for me to carry into the finish. I wait my 10 seconds, walk over to Brian, get the flag situated over my head and run home. A bittersweet moment, proud to be there, proud to cross that finish with the flag overhead and a proud American. Just not my race.
I crossed the finish line, saw Hailey, gave her a hug and had to smile. Regardless of what happened in my race, Hailey had the race of her life and her best run time by minutes (yes that's with an 's'). And it was a proud moment. Here, a girl who lost her leg to cancer at age 15. Years later we fit her with her first running leg and witness her first 5K. And then her first triathlon. And now (becasue that 2 legged Denmark girl did get disqualified) a World Champion. A teammate, a fierce competitor and most importantly a friend. It turned this day into a day of mixed emotions. Did I want to win? Absolutely. But it wasn't meant to be. This was Hailey's day. I was proud, but I was sad, I was mad, I was all sorts of stuff.
The rest of the weekend was a celebration. Awards were the next day and I got to stand on the podium, hand over my heart and listen to my favorite song as 3 American flags went up. USA sweep. And adding some silver to those golds adds some color right?
A quick thank you to our sponsors Deloitte, Scheck and Siress and all the family and friends that supported all of us to make it to World Championships. You were thought of often.
We got to see the big sights in London, tried to fit too many people in a phone booth, tried to get the guards to laugh and then took the chunnel over to Paris for 3 days.
Myself, Brian, and Dan Riley, our favorite travel buddy. Because this
post is already too long, I'll keep it brief. Think crepes, wine,
cappuccinos and cheese. Think wine on the lawn by the eiffel tower, the
mona lisa, walking and more walking, the Arc de Triomphe, more wine,
more crepes, street performers, rain, sun, the Seine, running by the
Seine, more cappuccinos, book shops, street vendors, Notre Dame,
pastries, flower shops and yes, more wine. Paris really is a spectacular
city and September is the perfect time to go.
I would be lying if I didn't say that the race didn't run through my head a few times while I was there. OK, maybe more than a few times. The flat tire, if I could have done more, why I wasn't strong enough to have a better run and the feeling that I had failed. I think what got to me most is that I wasn't mentally strong. I let that stupid flat get to me. In the race and in the days after. I talked to many people about it and they all said I should be proud for not quitting after a flat, I should be happy with silver after loosing minutes trying to deal with it. I tried to look at it that way, at the positive parts, but all I could think of was that run. That dang run.
But
this whole 'what if', it doesn't matter in the
long run. Just like April 13, 2004, it reaffirmed an
important lesson, that things aren't always in your control. And as cheesy as it sounds when I got back home I put that flat tire in my room to remind myself of that. As Jimi would have said, It is what it is.
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So there it be. Back to home sweet Chicago. A pending Ironman in 7 weeks and lots of training to do before then. I've had some good training but that's for another post, this one is too long. But that IM finish line is just what I need.
Peace Out!
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times, Hailey, my Dare2tri teammate, and a great friend and this new girl from Denmark. Let me say now that this girl from Denmark was a little off from the start. She had all of her limbs and 'used' a cane when she walked. Before the race even started many commented that she was classified wrong and shouldn't have been a Tri2 competing with us. But there she was, her starting alongside the 3 of us missing our legs. So be it.
The swim was great. I got out of the water first feeling solid, crutched into my transition and was on the bike. The bike was a whopping 6 loops, so a little over 2 miles each and each loop would bring us by transition where we could see the crowd. And my handler. Keri of course. It was wet roads, a little rough and lots of turns. The bike is usually my weakest of the 3 but I had been training and was ready to push hard. The first loop went well. I came through transition knowing I was still ahead and feeling great. A mile into the 2nd loop something started to feel a little strange. I kept thinking something was loose on the bike. And then I felt it, the thump, thump. I looked down and yep, flat tire. Having never had a flat tire in a race, my first thought was seriously, here? and then crap, what do I do...
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Well, here's what I did... I made it to the crowd and frantically yelled out, I have a flat, I have a flat. And then I kept going.. loop #3. I had everything I needed to change the tire but I was too caught off guard to do it or know what to do. So I did a 3rd loop. A slow 3rd loop. I couldn't get above 13mph without feeling unsteady. At one point, with all the turns, I looked down to see I was going 9mph and thought how ridiculous this was. It was world championships and this wasn't my plan. I kept telling myself to just get to the crowd, hoping that someone would tell me what to do. I did just that and Brian called out, Keri is in the wheel pit. Who knew there was a wheel pit? So I creeped my way into the wheel pit, thinking Keri and I were going to change my flat. Instead they had an entire wheel there for me to switch out with my flat one. Great news. As we put it on, we realized that this wheel is more narrow than my other one and my front brakes
I came to the end of the bike and saw the dismount line. I went to pull the brakes and nothing happened. Turns out when your front brakes don't work, stopping isn't that easy. It was a shocking revelation. I pulled a little harder, slid past the dismount line, saw a red flag go up as I
they take that dismount line seriously. Penalty it is.
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A few hundred feet before the finish I see the penalty box and my number in it. I walk into the penalty box, I see Brian close by holding the signature American flag for me to carry into the finish. I wait my 10 seconds, walk over to Brian, get the flag situated over my head and run home. A bittersweet moment, proud to be there, proud to cross that finish with the flag overhead and a proud American. Just not my race.
I crossed the finish line, saw Hailey, gave her a hug and had to smile. Regardless of what happened in my race, Hailey had the race of her life and her best run time by minutes (yes that's with an 's'). And it was a proud moment. Here, a girl who lost her leg to cancer at age 15. Years later we fit her with her first running leg and witness her first 5K. And then her first triathlon. And now (becasue that 2 legged Denmark girl did get disqualified) a World Champion. A teammate, a fierce competitor and most importantly a friend. It turned this day into a day of mixed emotions. Did I want to win? Absolutely. But it wasn't meant to be. This was Hailey's day. I was proud, but I was sad, I was mad, I was all sorts of stuff.
The rest of the weekend was a celebration. Awards were the next day and I got to stand on the podium, hand over my heart and listen to my favorite song as 3 American flags went up. USA sweep. And adding some silver to those golds adds some color right?
A quick thank you to our sponsors Deloitte, Scheck and Siress and all the family and friends that supported all of us to make it to World Championships. You were thought of often.
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I would be lying if I didn't say that the race didn't run through my head a few times while I was there. OK, maybe more than a few times. The flat tire, if I could have done more, why I wasn't strong enough to have a better run and the feeling that I had failed. I think what got to me most is that I wasn't mentally strong. I let that stupid flat get to me. In the race and in the days after. I talked to many people about it and they all said I should be proud for not quitting after a flat, I should be happy with silver after loosing minutes trying to deal with it. I tried to look at it that way, at the positive parts, but all I could think of was that run. That dang run.
long run. Just like April 13, 2004, it reaffirmed an
important lesson, that things aren't always in your control. And as cheesy as it sounds when I got back home I put that flat tire in my room to remind myself of that. As Jimi would have said, It is what it is.
So there it be. Back to home sweet Chicago. A pending Ironman in 7 weeks and lots of training to do before then. I've had some good training but that's for another post, this one is too long. But that IM finish line is just what I need.
Peace Out!
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